Obrázky stránek

it, have given me encouragement to send you a state of my case, by which you will see, that the matter complained of is a common grievance both to city and country.

"I am a country gentleman of between five and six thousand a year. It is my misfortune to have a very fine park and an only daughter; upon which account I have been so plagued with deer-stealers and fops, that for these four years past I have scarce enjoyed a moment's rest. I look upon my-ing, and told me she had been visiting a relation, self to be in a state of war; and am forced to keep a constant watch in my seat, as a governor would do that commanded a town on the frontier of an enemy's country. I have indeed pretty well secured my park; having for this purpose provided myself of four keepers, who are left-handed, and handle a quarter-staff beyond any other fellows in the country. And for the guard of my house, beside a band of pensioner-matrons and an old maiden relation whom I keep on constant duty, I have blunderbusses always charged, and fox-gins planted in private places about my garden, of which I have given frequent notice in the neighborhood; yet so it is, that in spite of all my care, I shall every now and then have a saucy rascal ride by, reconnoitering (as I think you call it) under my windows, as sprucely dressed as if he were going to a ball. I am aware of this way of attacking a mistress on horseback, having heard that it is a common practice in Spain; and have therefore taken care to remove my daughter from the road-side of the house, and to lodge her next the garden. But to cut short my story. What can a man do after all? I durst not stand for member of parliament last election, for fear of some ill consequence from my being off my post. What I would therefore desire of you is, to promote a project I have set on foot, and upon which I have written to some of my friends, and that is, that care may be taken to secure our daughters by law, as well as our deer; and that some honest gentleman, of a public spirit, would move for leave to bring in a bill for the better preserving of the female game. "I am, Sir,

"Your humble Servant."

"Mile-End Green, March 6, 1711-12.


"Here is a young man walks by our door every
day about the dusk of the evening. He looks up
at my window, as if to see me; and if I steal to-
ward it to peep at him, he turns another way, and
looks frightened at finding what he was looking for.
The air is very cold; and pray let him know, that,
if he knocks at the door, he will be carried to the
parlor fire, and I will come down soon after, and
give him an opportunity to break his mind.
"I am, Sir,

"Your most humble Servant,

"If I observe he cannot speak, I'll give him time to recover himself, and ask him how he does."


pregnancy with them, would not only have hand-
somely defrayed the charges of the month, but of
their education too; her fancy being so exorbitant in
the first year or two, as not to confine itself to the
usual objects of eatables and drinkables, but run-
ning out after equipages and furniture, and the
like extravagances. To trouble you only with a
few of them; when she was with child of Tom,
my eldest son, she came home one day just faint-
whose husband had made her a present of a
chariot and a stately pair of horses: and that she
was positive she could not breathe a week longer,
unless she took the air in the fellow to it of her
own within that time. This, rather than lose an
heir, I readily complied with. Then the furni-
ture of her best room must be instantly changed
or she should mark the child with some of the
frightful figures of the old-fashioned tapestry.
Well, the upholsterer was called, and her longing
saved that bout. When she went with Molly, she
had fixed her mind upon a new set of plate, and
as much china as would have furnished an Indian
shop: these also I cheerfully granted, for fear of
being father to an Indian pagod. Hitherto 1 found
her demands rose upon every concession; and had
she gone on, I had been ruined; but by good
fortune, with her third, which was Peggy, the
height of her imagination came down to the corner
of a venison-pasty, and brought her once even
upon her kness to gnaw off the ears of a pig from
the spit. The gratifications of her palate were
easily preferred to those of her vanity: and some-
times a partridge, or a quail, or a wheat-ear, or
the pestle of a lark, were cheerfully purchased;
nay, I could be contented though I were to feed
her with green-peas in April, or cherries in May.
But with the babe she now goes, she is turned girl
again, and fallen to eating of chalk, pretending it
will make the child's skin white; and nothing will
serve her but I must bear her company, to prevent
its having a shade of my brown. In this. how-
ever, I have ventured to deny her. No longer ago
than yesterday, as we were coming to town, she
saw a parcel of crows, so heartily at breakfast on
a piece of horse-flesh, that she had an invincible
desire to partake with them, and (to my infinite
surprise) begged the coachman to cut her off a
slice, as if it were for himself, which the fellow
did; and as soon as she came home, she fell to it
with such an appetite, that she seemed rather to
devour than eat it. What her next sally will be I
cannot guess; but, in the meantime, my request to
you is, that if there be any way to come at these
wild unaccountable rovings of imagination by
reason and argument, you'd speedily afford us
your assistance. This exceeds the grievance of
pin-money; and I think in every settlement there
ought to be a clause inserted, that the father
should be answerable for the longings of his
daughter. But I shall impatiently expect your
thoughts in this matter, and am,
"Sir, your most obliged, and

T. B."

"Most faithful, humble Servant, "Let me know whether you think the next child will love horses as much as Molly does


-Major rerum mihi nascitur ordo.

"I beg you to print this without delay, and by the first opportunity give us the natural causes of longing in women: or put me out of fear that my wife will one time or other be delivered of some- No. 327.] SATURDAY, MARCH 15, 1711-12 thing as monstrous as anything that has yet appeared to the world; for they say the child is to bear a resemblance of what was desired by the mother. I have been married upward of six years, have had four children and my wife is now big with the fifth. The expenses she has put me to, in procuring what she has longed for during her

VIRG, En. VËL 48.

A larger scene of action is display'd.—Dayzas, WE were told in the foregoing book, how the evil spirit practiced upon Eve as she lay asleep, in order to inspire her with thoughts of vanity.

pride, and ambition. The author, who shows a won- courtship of Milton's Adam, and could not be derful art throughout his whole poem, for preparing heard by Eve in her state of innocence, excepting the reader for the several occurrences that arise only in a dream produced on purpose to taint her in it, founds, upon the above-mentioned circum-imagination. Other vain sentiments of the same stance, the first part of the fifth book. Adam, kind, in this relation of her dream, will be obviupon his awaking, finds Eve still asleep, with an ous to every reader. Though the catastrophe of unusual discomposure in her looks. The posture the poem is finely presaged on this occasion, the in which he regards her is described with a ten- particulars of it are so artfully shadowed, that derness not to be expressed, as the whisper with they do not anticipate the story which follows in which he awakens her is the softest that ever was the ninth book. I shall only add, that though conveyed to a lover's ear. the vision itself is founded upon truth, the circumstances of it are full of that wildness and inconsistency which are natural to a dream. Adam, conformable to his superior character for wisdom, instructs and comforts Eve upon this occasion: So cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was cheer'd, But silently a gentle tear let fall From either eye, and wip'd them with her hair; Two other precious drops, that ready stood Each in their crystal sluice, he, ere they fell, Kiss'd, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended.

His wonder was, to find awaken'd Eve
With tresses discompos'd, and glowing cheek,
As through unquiet rest: he, on his side
Leaning half-raised, with looks of cordial love
Hung over her enamor'd, and beheld
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar graces; then, with voice
Mild as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,

Her hand soft touching, whisper'd thus: "Awake,
My fairest, my espous'd, my latest found,
Heav'n's last best gift, my ever new delight,
Awake: the morning shines, and the fresh field
Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring
Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove,
What drops of myrrh, and what the balmy reed,
How nature paints her colors, how the bee
Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet."

Such whispering wak'd her, but with startled eye
On Adaru, whom embracing, thus she spake:

"O sole, in whom my thoughts find all repose, My glory, my perfection! glad I see Thy face, and morn return'd

[ocr errors]

I cannot but take notice, that Milton, in the conferences between Adam and Eve, had his eye very much upon the book of Canticles, in which there is a noble spirit of eastern poetry, and very often not unlike what we meet with in Homer, who is generally placed near the age of Solomon. I think there is no question but the poet in the preceding speech remembered those two passages which are spoken on the like occasion, and filled with the same pleasing images of nature.

"My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up my love, my fair one, and come away! for, lo! the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grapes give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away!

"Come, my beloved! let us go forth into the field, let us get up early into the vineyards, let us see whether the vine flourish, whether the tender grapes appear, and the pomegranates bud forth."

His preferring the garden of Eden to that

-Where the sapient king

Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse,

shows that the poet had this delightful scene in

his mind.

Eve's dream is full of those high conceits engendering pride, which, we are told, the devil endeavored to instil into her. Of this kind is that part of it where she fancies herself awakened by Adam in the following beautiful lines:

"Why sleep'st thou, Eve? Now is the pleasant time,
The cool, the silent, save where silence yields
To the night-warbling bird, that now awake
Tunes sweetest his love-labor'd song: now reigns
Fall-orb'd the moon, and with more pleasing light
Shadowy sets off the face of things. In vain,
If none regard. Heav'n wakes with all his eyes,
Whom to behold but thee, nature's desire,
In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment,
Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze!"
An injudicious poet would have made Adam
talk through the whole work in such sentiments as
these: but flattery and falsehood are not the

The morning hymn is written in imitation of one of those psalms where, in the overflowing of gratitude and praise, the Psalmist calls not only upon the angels, but upon the most conspicuous parts of the inanimate creation to join with him in extolling their common Maker. Invocations of this nature fill the mind with glorious ideas of God's works, and awaken that divine enthusiasm which is so natural to devotion. But if this calling upon the dead parts of nature is at all times a proper kind of worship, it was in a particular manner suitable to our first parents, who had the creation fresh upon their minds, and had not seen the various dispensations of Providence, nor consequently could be acquainted with those many topics of praise which might afford matter to the devotions of their posterity. I need not remark the beautiful spirit of poetry which runs through the whole hymn, nor the holiness of that resolution with which it concludes.

Having already mentioned those speeches which are assigned to the persons in this poem, I proceed to the description which the poets give us of Raphael. His departure from before the throne, and his flight through the choirs of angels, is finely imagined. As Milton everywhere fills his poem with circumstances that are marvelous and astonishing, he describes the gate of heaven as framed after such a manner, that it opened of itself upon the approach of the angel who was to pass through it.

-Till at the gate

Of heav'n arriv'd, the gate self-open'd' wide
On golden hinges turning, as by work
Divine, the sovereign Architect had fram'd.

The poet here seems to have regarded two or three passages in the 18th Iliad, as that in particular where, speaking of Vulcan, Homer says, that he had made twenty tripods running on golden wheels; which, upon occasion, might go of themselves to the assembly of the gods, and, when there was no more use for them, return again after the same manner. Scaliger has rallied Homer very severely upon this point, as M. Dacier has endeavored to defend it. I will not pretend to determine whether, in this particular of Homer, the marvelous does not lose sight of the probable. As the miraculous workmanship of Milton's gates is not so extraordinary as this of the tripods, so I am persuaded he would not have mentioned it, had not he been supported in it by a passage in the Scripture, which speaks of wheels in heaven that had life in them, and moved of themselves, or stood still, in conformity with the cherubim whom they accompanied.

There is no question but Milton had this cir- history of that fallen angel who was employed in cumstance in his thoughts; because in the follow-the circumvention of our first parents.

ing book he describes the chariot of the Messiah
with living wheels, according to the plan in Eze-
kiel's vision:-

-Forth rushed with whirlwind sound
The chariot of paternal* Deity.
Flashing thick flames, wheel within wheel undrawn,
Itself instinct with spirit-

I question not but Bossu, and the two Daciers, who are for vindicating everything that is censured in Homer, by something parallel in holy writ, would have been very well pleased had they thought of confronting Vulcan's tripods with

Ezekiel's wheels.

Had I followed Monsieur Bossu's method in my first paper on Milton, I should have dated the action of Paradise Lost from the beginning of Raphael's speech in this book, as he supposes the action of the Eneid to begin in the second book of that poem. I could allege many reasons for my drawing the action of the Eneid rather from its immediate beginning in the first book, than from its remote beginning in the second: and show why I have considered the sacking of Troy as an episode, according to the common acceptation of that word. But as this would be a dry unentertaining piece of criticism, and perhaps unneces Raphael's descent to the earth, with the figure sary to those who have read my first papers, I of his person, is represented in very lively colors. shall not enlarge upon it. Whichever of the noSeveral of the French, Italian, and English poets, tions be true, the unity of Milton's action is prehave given a loose to their imaginations in the served according to either of them; whether we description of angels: but I do not remember to consider the fall of man in its immediate beginhave met with any so finely drawn, and so con-ning, as proceeding from the resolutions taken in formable to the notions which are given of them the infernal council, or in its more remote beginin Scripture, as this in Milton. After having setning, as proceeding from the first revolt, of the him forth in all his heavenly plumage, and repre- angels in heaven. The occasion which Milton sented him as alighted upon the earth, the poet assigns for this revolt, as it is founded on hints in concludes his description with a circumstance holy writ, and on the opinion of some great which is altogether new, and imagined with the writers, so it was the most proper that the poet could have made use of. greatest strength of fancy:

-Like Maia's son he stood,

And shook his plumes, that heavenly fragrance fill'd
The circuit wide-

Raphael's reception by the guardian angels, his passing through the wilderness of sweets, his distant appearance to Adam, have all the graces that poetry is capable of bestowing. The author afterward gives us a particular description of Eve in her domestic employments:

So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste
She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent,
What choice to choose for delicacy best,
What order, so contrived, as not to mix
Tastes not well join'd, inelegant, but bring
Taste after taste, upheld with kindliest change;
Bestirs her then," etc.

Though in this, and other parts of the same book, the subject is only the housewifery of our first parents, it is set off with so many pleasing images and strong expressions, as make it none of the least agreeable parts in this divine work.

The natural majesty of Adam, and, at the same time, his submissive behavior to the superior being who had vouchsafed to be his guest; the solemn "hail" which the angel bestows upon the mother of mankind, with the figure of Eve ministering at the table; are circumstances which deserve to be admired.

Raphael's behavior is every way suitable to the dignity of his nature, and to that character of a sociable spirit with which the author has so judiciously introduced him. He had received instructions to converse with Adam, as one friend converses with another, and to warn him of the enemy, who was contriving his destruction: accordingly, he is represented as sitting down at table with Adam, and eating of the fruits of Paradise. The occasion naturally leads him to his discourse on the food of angels. After having thus entered into conversation with man upon more indifferent subjects, he warns him of his obedience, and makes a natural transition to the

[blocks in formation]

The revolt in heaven is described with great force of imagination, and a fine variety of circumstances. The learned reader cannot but be pleased with the poet's imitation of Homer in the last of the following lines:

At length into the limits of the north
They came, and Satan took his royal seat
High on a hill, far blazing, as a mount
Rais'd on a mount, with pyramids and tow'rs
From diamond quarries hewn, and rocks of gold,
The palace of great Lucifer (so call

That structure in the dialect of men

Homer mentions persons and things, which, he tells us, in the language of the gods are called by different names from those they go by in the language of men. Milton has imitated him with his he has likewise the authority of Scripture to jus usual judgment in this particular place, wherein spirit that in this infinite host of Angels pretify him. The part of Abdiel, who was the only served his allegiance to his Maker, exhibits to us of the seraphim breaks forth in a becoming a noble moral of religious singularity. The real warmth of sentiments and expressions, as the character which is given us of him denotes that generous scorn and intrepidity which attend he roic virtue. The author, doubtless, designed it as a pattern to those who live among mankind their present state of degeneracy and corruption:

So spake the seraph Abdiel, faithful found
Among the faithless, faithful only he;
Among innumerable false, unmov'd,
Unshaken, unseduc'd, unterrified;
His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal:
Nor number nor example with him wrought
To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind,
Though single. From amidst them forth he pass
Long way thro' hostile scorn, which he sustain 4
Superior, nor of violence fear'd aught;

And, with retorted scorn, his back he turned
L. On those proud tow'rs to swift destruction dooms.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

are the first person I ever could prevail upon myself to lay it before. When I tell you I have a healthy, vigorous constitution, a plentiful estate, no inordinate desires, and am married to a virtuous lovely woman, who neither wants wit nor good nature, and by whom I have a numerous offspring to perpetuate my family, you will naturally conclude me a happy man. But, notwithstanding these promising appearances, I am so far from it, that the prospect of being ruined and undone by & sort of extravagance, which of late years is in a less degree crept into every fashionable family, deprives me of all the comforts of life, and renders me the most anxious, miserable man on earth. My wife, who was the only child and darling care of an indulgent mother, employed her early years in learning all those accomplishments we generally understand by good-breeding and polite education. She sings, dances, plays on the lute and harpsichord, paints prettily, is a perfect mistress of the French tongue, and has made a considerable progress in Italian. She is beside excellently skilled in all domestic sciences, as preserving, pickling, pastry, making wines of fruits of our own growth, embroidering, and needleworks of every kind. Hitherto, you will be apt to think there is very little cause of complaint; but suspend your opinion till I have further explained myself, and then, I make no question, you will come over to mine. You are not to imagine I find fault that she possesses or takes delight in the exercises of those qualifications I just now mentioned; 'tis the immoderate foudness she has to them that I lament, and that what is only designed for the innocent amusement and recreation of life is become the whole business and study of hers. The six months we are in town (for the year is equally divided between that and the country), from almost break of day till noon, the whole morning is laid out in practicing with her several masters; and, to make up the losses occasioned by her absence in summer, every day in the week their attendance is required; and as they are all people eminent in their professious, their skill and time must be recompensed accordingly. So how far these aricles extend, I leave you to judge. Limning, one would think, is no expensive diversion; but, as she manages the matter, 'tis a very considerable addition to her disbursements; which you will easily believe, when you know she paints fans for all her female acquaintance, and draws all her relations' pictures in miniature; the first must be mounted by nobody but Colmar, and the other set by nobody but Charles Mather. What follows is still much worse than the former; for, as I told you she is a great artist at her needle, 'tis incredible what sums she expends in embroidery; for, beside what is appropriated to her personal use, as mantuas, petticoats, stomachers, handkerchiefs, purses, pin-cushions, and workingaprons, she keeps four French Protestants continually employed in making divers pieces of superfluous furniture, as quilts, toilets, hangings for closets, beds, window-curtains, easy chairs, and tabourets; nor have I any hopes of ever reclaiming her from this extravagance, while she obstinately persists in thinking it a notable piece of good housewifery, because they are made at home, and she has had some share in the performance. There would be no end of relating to you the par- *As many of our readers may be pleased to see, "in puris ticulars of the annual charge, in furnishing her naturalibus," the original paper, in room of which the prestore-room with a profusion of pickles and pre- sent number was very early substituted, and as this curiosiserves; for she is not contented with having every-printed from the copy in folio, in its order, marked as at first, ty may now be inoffensively gratified, it is here faithfully rething, unless it be done every way, in which she consults an hereditary book of receipts; for her

female ancestors have been always famed for good housewifery, one of whom is made immortal, by giving her name to an eye-water and two sorts of puddings. I cannot undertake to recite all her medicinal preparations, as salves, sere-cloths, powders, confects, cordials, ratafia, persico, orangeflower, and cherry-brandy, together with innumerable sorts of simple waters. But there is nothing I lay so much to my heart as that detestable catalogue of counterfeit wines, which derive their names from the fruits, herbs or trees, of whose juices they are chiefly compounded. They are loathsome to the taste, and pernicious to the health; and as they seldom survive the year, and then are thrown away, under a false pretense of frugality, I may affirm they stand me in more than if I entertained all our visitors with the best burgundy and champagne. Coffee, chocolate, and green, imperial, peco, and bohea teas, seem to be trifles; but when the proper appurtenances of the tea-table are added, they swell the account higher than one would imagine. I cannot conclude without doing her justice in one article, where her frugality is so remarkable, I must not deny her the merit of it, and that is in relation to her children, who are all confined, both boys and girls, to one large room in the remotest part of the house, with bolts on the doors and bars to the windows, under the care and tuition of an old woman, who had been dry-nurse to her grandmother. This is their residence all the year round; and, as they are never allowed to appear, she prudently thinks it needless to be at any expense in apparel or learning. Her eldest daughter to this day would have neither read nor wrote, if it had not been for the butler, who being the son of a country attorney, has taught her such a hand as is generally used for engrossing bills in chancery. By this time I have sufficiently tired your patience with my domestic grievances; which I hope you will agree could not well be contained in a narrow compass, when you consider what a paradox I undertook to maintain in the beginning of my epistle, and which manifestly appears to be but too melancholy a truth. And now I heartily wish the relation I have given of my misfortunes may be of use and benefit to the public. By the example I have set before them, the truly virtuous wives may learn to avoid these errors which have so unhappily misled mine, and which are visibly, these three-First, in mistaking the proper objects of her esteem, and fixing her affections upon such things as are only the trappings and decora tions of her sex. Secondly, in not distinguishing what becomes the different stages of life. And, lastly, the abuse and corruption of some excellent qualities, which, if circumscribed within just bounds, would have been the blessing and prosperity of her family; but by a vicious extreme, are like to be the bane and destruction of it."-T.

"At the date of this paper a noted toyman in Fleet-street.

No. 328.*] MONDAY, MARCH 17, 1711-12.
Delectata illa urbanitate tam stulta.


Delighted with unaffected plainness. THAT useful part of learning which consists in emendations, knowledge of different readings, and

No. 325*, only with the addition of an asterisk. It had the signature T at the bottom; but see the desire annexed to the

short letter in the following note, both which made the concluding part of No. 330 in the original publication of these papers in folio.

cookery. I do not think but that if you and I can
agree to marry, and lay our means together, I shall
be made grand juryman ere two or three years come
about, and that will be a great credit to us. If 1
could have got a messenger for sixpence, I would have
sent one on purpose, and some trifle or other for a
token of my love; but I hope there is nothing lost for
that neither. So, hoping you will take this letter in
good part, and answer it with what care and speed
you can, I rest and remain
Yours, if my own,

the like, is what in all ages persons extremely one who had been well trained up in the sewing and wise and learned have had in great veneration. For this reason I cannot but rejoice at the following epistle, which lets us into the true author of the letter to Mrs. Margaret Clark, part of which I did myself the honor to publish in a former paper. I must confess I do not naturally affect critical learning; but finding myself not so much regarded as I am apt to flatter myself I may deserve from some professed patrons of learning, I could not but do myself the justice to show I am not a stranger to such erudition as they smile upon, if I were duly encouraged. However, this is only to let the.. Sweeepston, world see what I could do; and I shall not give Leicestershire. my reader any more of this kind, if he will forgive the ostentation I show at present.


[ocr errors]

March 13, 1711-12.

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]


"now my father is dead." When the coal carts come, I shall send oftener; and may come in one of them myself."*

[ocr errors]

For Sir William to go to london at westminster remember a parlement,


[ocr errors]

'Upon reading your paper of yesterday, I took the pains to look out a copy I had formerly taken, and remembered to be very like your last letter: comparing them, I found they were the very same; William, i hope that you are well. i write to and have, underwritten, sent you that part of it let you know that i am in trouble about a lady which you say was torn off. I hope you will in- your nease; and i do desire that you will be my sert it, that posterity may know 'twas Gabriel friend; for when i did com to see her at your hall, Bullock that made love in that natural style of i was mighty Abuesed. i would fain a see you at which you seem to be so fond. But, to let you topecliff, and thay would not let me go to you; but see I have other manuscripts in the same way, I i desire that you will be our friends, for it is no have sent you inclosed three copies, faithfully dishonor neither for you nor she, for God did make taken by my own hand from the originals, which us all. i wish that i might see yu, for they say were written by a Yorkshire gentleman of a good that you are a good man; and many doth wounder estate to Madam Mary, and an uncle of hers, a at it, but madam norton is abuesed and ceated two knight very well known by the most ancient gentry i believe. i might a had many a lady, but I con in that and several other counties of Great Bri- have none but her with a good consons, for there tain. I have exactly followed the form and spelling. is a God that know our hearts. if you and ma I have been credibly informed that Mr. William Bul- dam norton will come to York, there i shill meet lock, the famous comedian, is the descendant of this you, if God be willing, and if you be pleased. so Gabriel, who begot Mr. William Bullock's great- be not angterie till you know the trutes of things. grandfather on the body of the above-mentioned Mrs. Margaret Clark. As neither Speed, nor Baker, nor Selden, take notice of it, I will not pretend to be positive; but desire that the letter may be reprinted, and what is here recovered may be in Italics.

"I am, Sir,

"George Nelson,

“This is for madam

"I give my to me lady, and

to Mr. Aysenby, and to madam norton, March the 19th, 1706." mary norton disforth Lady ske went to York.


"Your daily Reader." "Madam Mary. Deare loving sweet lady, i hope you are well. Do not go to london, for they "To her I very much respect, Mrs. Marg. Clark." will put you in the nunnery, and heed not Mrs. "Lovely, and oh that I could say loving Mrs. Lucy what she saith to you, for she will ly and Margaret Clark, I pray you let affection excuse ceat you. go from to another place, and we will gate presumption. Having been so happy as to enjoy wed so with speed, mind what i write to you, for the sight of your sweet countenance and comely if they gate you to london they will keep you there; body sometimes when I had occasion to buy treacle and so let us gate wed, and we will both go. or liquorish powder at the apothecary's shop, I if you go to london, you rueing yourself. so heed am so enamored with you, that I can no more not what none of them saith to you: let us gate keep close my flaming desire to become your wed, and we shall lie to gader any time. i will servant. And I am the more bold now to do anything for you to my poore. i hope the write to your sweet self, because I am now my devil will faile them all, for a hellish company own man, and may match where I please; for my there be. from their cursed trick and mischiefus father is taken away; and now I am come to my ways good lord bless and deliver both you and living, which is ten yard land and a house; and me. there is never a yard of land* in our field but is as well worth ten pounds a year as a thief's worth a halter; and all my brothers and sisters are provided for: beside I have good household stuff, though I say it, both brass and pewter, linens and woolens; and though my house be thatched, yet if you and I match, it shall go hard but I will have one half of it slated. If you shall think well of this motion, I will wait upon you as soon as my new clothes are made, and hay harvest is in. I could, though I say it have good matches in our town; but my mother (God's peace be with her) charged me on her death-bed to marry a gentlewoman,

In some countries 20, in some 24, and in others 30 acres of land.-Virgata Terræ

"I think to be at York the 24 day."

"This is for madam mary norton to go to london jer a lady that belongs to dishforth.

"Madam Mary i hope you are well. i am sorry that you went away from York. deare loving sweet lady, i writt to let you know that i do remain furth full; and if can let me know where i can meet you i will wed you, and I will do anything to my poor; for you are a good woman, and will be s loving Misteris. i am in troubel for you, so if you will come to york i will wed you. so with speed come, and I will have none but you. so, sweet

*See No. 324, and note, where this letter is given imper fectly, and supplied otherwise.

« PředchozíPokračovat »